


The Pebble Syndrome

by moralpass



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Magic, F/F, Magic, Magical Realism, Multi, Romance, Smut, Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-13 12:30:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5708197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moralpass/pseuds/moralpass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU; Regina's powers manifest themselves in the real world at the age of thirteen. She had to learn to control her powers, but controlling them and understanding them are two different things. Her best friend Emma is the only person in the world who knows about her abilities. Together, they travel the world in search of answers. Regina finds it difficult to control her powers when Emma's around due to her growing attraction that she believes is one sided.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

The Beginning

I guess I’ve always been pretty normal. You know, white picket fences, happily married parents, horse shows every weekend, good grades. Normal. That was me, maybe the white picket fence part was an exaggeration. We live in a condo right now. That doesn’t make me any less normal! Not that I really want to be normal, that’s pretty boring, boring, but right now my entire reality is being tested and if I can get normal then I’m going to take it. I just turned thirteen about a week ago, the party, if you could call it that, was great. My best friend came over and my parents let us go and see a movie in theater, the best part being that they decided they didn’t need to tag along.

  
Emma, that was my best friend, since we were old enough to tiddle and toddle. Are those the same things? I don’t know, probably, but it’s been a long time. We went to see this comedy, I can’t remember the name, she picked it and I was having a hard time focusing that day. The moment I woke up my body felt warm and my skin crawled and not matter what I wore of how much I raked my nails over my arms, legs, and neck, it wouldn’t go away.

  
“Emma,” I said, but it was hardly audible. “Emma, I- uh, I can’t feel my hands.”

  
“What was that?” She asked, chewing on a piece of licorice.

  
“Nothing.” I said, squeezing my right hand in my left and vice versa. There was no logical reason for this. Maybe I was dying. You know, I read this biography once, about this woman who got bitten by a bed bug, or maybe not, because she never found them in her house, but then she went crazy and turns out she had the disease that they say is confused with demonic possession. I thought that was funny, but how scary would it be to lose your mind? Lose your mind and hallucinate, there’s nothing you could do to stop it because it’s out of your control. That scares me. Not that I have any mystery bites or anything, but who’s to say I’m immune? There my mind goes again, I worry too much.

  
I deserved to worry, I was fine yesterday and today, BAM! I’m like something straight out of mystery diagnosis. Maybe, that’s my problem. I have been watching too much of that show lately. I blame Emma, she’s so into it, she wants to be a doctor when she gets old, but I think she’ll change her mind.

  
“Hey, you okay?” Emma asked, I was pulled from my internal monologue. I must have looked as deep in thought as I wished I felt. Maybe if my brain were actually working correctly right now it would be able to come up with a solution!

  
“Me?” I pointed to myself, not noticing at the time that I could now feel my fingertips and that they were freezing. Emma nodded slowly. “Oh, what, yeah? I’m dandy peach.” I stuttered. Apparently my mystery diagnosis’ symptoms included idjit.

  
“Dandy peach?” She iterated, I nodded and pursed my lips into what could be a smile, if I were a dying swine. “Licorice?” She asked and passed the bag, I pushed it away. Emma had this recent taking to black licorice and if I knew any better I’d say that I were losing her to the dark side. However, I do know better, and she’s just a freak. The best kind.

  
Somewhere in between gagging at the stench of black licorice and trying not screech into the abyss, I found myself actually enjoying this film. I had no idea what the plot was or who the heck I was looking at, but some comedy is just rude and doesn’t need a plot of even a quality actor. It was funny, okay, and that’s the end of the line.  
The joke was soon forgotten as the second I laughed there was a ‘pop’ from behind us. I looked back to see and the projector had gone black, which made me mad, and when I’m mad I just kind of glare at things until they get scared. Obviously with this inanimate object, that wasn’t going to happen, but hey, I don’t back down.  
“I don’t think that’s going to work.” Emma laughed from beside me, the lights turned on and a couple of worker bees filed in.

  
“We’re sorry, all, but the projector seems to have,” He turned his red face away to a short girl who said something and he pulled a confused face. “Uh, spontaneously combusted.”

  
Emma laughed, the boy glared her way and she just shook her head. “So yeah, if you could just leave kindly, and pick up your trash that’d be- that’d be nice.” He did a thumbs up and shuffled out after the girl.

  
“Spontaneous combustion,” Emma repeated. “I wonder when the Winchester boys’ll show.” She referenced Supernatural, the greatest show to have aired since forever. Better than Glee, because apparently Glee is great, but I’ve never watched it. I never will, a musical TV show is not my cup of tea. I could barely sit through Disney on Ice.

  
“Right.” I said and stood, streching. I felt better, almost like none of the strange occurrences of earlier never happened, it all came down to a dull tingle, which I could handle. I slipped on my caramel leather coat and violet scarf, it was early February and still as cold as Mary Winchester was hot in pilot. Ha, no more Supernatural jokes, this isn’t a text post. I’ll admit, if I could go back and stop myself from making a tumblr, I would have, but now it’s too far gone.

  
Earlier this year we’d moved from the suburbs into the city. We have lived in Portland for about seven years, which apparently was the longest my parents have lived anywhere since I was born, a town in Maine that they lived in for five years. They were surprised to have ever left, but once I was born they wanted some place that I could thrive but not too much. So, after hopping around the country until I was about six, we ended up here, fell in love with the rain and surplus of hobos. Well, I did, I love homeless people, they always have the best stories to tell and all I have to do is make then rice crispy treats. Which, if you don’t know, is only the most fun food to make in the world. Maybe. Yes.

  
“I think it’s great.” Emma twirled around me as I walked and she skipped down the sidewalk. “The weather, that is.” The ground was still damp, but the kind of damp where if you sat on it, your butt would be fine and it wouldn’t look like you wet yourself. So, nice. I liked the way it felt underneath my feet, even through the shoes. I liked the feeling of cold air trying to attack my toes, but being blocked by my socks. I may or may not being wearing socks and sandals. Birkensocks.

  
"Me too, I just hope it rains a little." I answered, then she started talking and I wanted to listen, I really did, but it just wasn't happening today, all her words blurred into the backround and sounded like the adults in episodes of Charlie Brown, which coincidentally don't sound all that different from actual adults when they talk about politics or 'when I was your age'. Yeah, we get it, you were young once, you can vote, do you want a medal?

  
"Regina!" Emma called and whirled me around. Turns out, in my stupor I almost walked into two lanes of traffic. Oops. "Dude what is wrong with you?" She asked wide eyed.

  
I looked around, not really sure what I was doing. It was like I blinked and before the world was a day dream and now it was real and I could feel it closing in on me. "Nothing." I yanked away from her. "I was just thinking about.. something else." I replied.

  
"Are you okay?" She asked. "Like, really?" She pressed.

  
"Yes, stop asking me that, Emma, god." I flicked my head to the side to get my bangs out of my face. She was still staring at me. "Really." The panel across the road I was almost pancaked in turned to white. "We can walk." I noted and stepped out into the walk. Emma followed close behind and I wish she wasn't living in with us while her parent were backpacking somewhere in maple syrup country. Canada, and that wasn't hate, I love Canada and all it's inhabitants, well, I'm not too keen on the French, because I've been to France, and their food sucks. If there language wasn't so beautiful I'd put them on my list. The list of places I want to send all the worst people in the world. The first to go, Gwenyth Paltrow. Next, the girl I had a crush on for nine whole months. She was straight. I think. I don't know, I never told her.

  
We had taken a bus here, but in my trance I seemed to have forgot, and Emma was just following me about because she didn't spend much time in the city or anywhere that wasn't the woods outside her house and school. Her parents were apocalypse junkies, zombies and shit. They were the pair that thought the world was going to end in 2012, and having been given the speech about how and why, I was convinced as well. They were filthy rich, though, Emma's mom was an heiress to a corp that no one wanted to tell me the name of, and her father was in the army for twenty years, don't know what he did, because he was one of those that never spoke of the war unless it was to compare it to some casual problem here in America.

  
They are definitely, you know, interesting. To say the very least. But they're good people, my parents like them, and Emma is the best person I have ever met. I love her, she's like my complete opposite in so many ways but we're basically the same as well. I can't even begin to tell you how many times she has gotten us into trouble and I've had to take the fall because, well my parents would understand and still let me see the light of day, and her parents were very nice but they didn't tolerate foolishness when it came to her, and they trusted me. So, everytime one of her 'adventures' goes south, guess who's house we end up at? Yep, mine. They don't mind though, well not the first time, or the second, or the time I broke my arm, but you get the idea. They only got pissed the time that we broke in to an abandoned house in search of ghosts.

  
The cops thought we were stealing. Cops are stupid, they obviously do not know who they are dealing with. That's another nice part of living in the city; the popo never remember you. When you're this cute it's easy to get off with just a warning once, then again and again until maybe someone recognizes you, but we like to act. Lying is an art, but only when you know how to use it properly and to your benefit without hurting someone, but that only seems to go accordingly sometimes.

  
I smiled at the memory when I started to feel hot all over again, the tingle turned into a hum, a vibration that came in short wavelengths moving throughout my body, it felt as if they were piling up at my fingertips, which were so hot they almost felt cold. I stopped short.

  
"Emma." I whined. "Emma, Emma, look." I stared down at my hands which were glowing red and purple.

  
"What?" She asked.

  
"My hands, look, look." I shook them, they only hurt more.

  
"Regina, I don't.. know what you're talking about." She answered.  
I could feel the fear piling up in my eyes, I could smell it coming out of my pores and it smelled just a bit like.. apples. With a hint of cinnamon, or is that nutmeg? I felt heavy, like my blood was turning solid and I tried to focus, if I focused then I could see, I took a deep breath and exhaled just as Emma grabbed my hand, I was startled as purple smoke engulfed us.

 

When I opened my eyes we were somewhere I didn't recognize. Someplace concrete. Made of concrete that is, not like concrete evidence. Even though it is evident that we are somewhere unfamiliar.

  
"Regina.. what the hell is going on?" Emma asked, rubbing her arm where it was red. I picked up her coat and tossed it to her, it must have flew off her waist in out jumble.

  
"I felt weird." I said.

  
"No shit, but how did you?" She went on, then began to pace. "No, no, this isn't real." She began. "You're like a witch."

  
"What?" I was astounded. "No. I'm not, I don't know how this happened." I said. "Shut up, let's find a way out of here." I began to pat down the walls, they were damp. There was a door in the corner, but I didn't see it until now. "Come on." I swallowed, Emma couldn't be scared now, she was the one who always went first. "Emma please." I called with my hand on the knob, she let out a huff before moving over to the door, I opened it, I almost cried when it jammed, but it gave it. It was just old, not locked.

  
Outside the door was a small mudroom, it looked like the house in Evil Dead, which if my mom asks, I didn't watch. Emma opened the front door and outside we were relieved to see that it wasn't some demented forest but a busy street. Emma stomped out the door and swung her coat on and raced down the steps.

  
"Wait!" I called.

  
"No way, you dumped us in a damn crack house." She ran. I shook my head, running was my least favorite activity. I watched her and wished she'd stop, and suddenly, she did. I stood with my eyes wide a moment before jogging up to her rigid form.  
"Are you- did I do this?" I asked. There was a faint blue color outlining her, it swirled and shined, I poked at it and it disappeared. "Don't run, I'm sorry." I said and she just looked around and folded her arms.

  
"Regina, I don't know what the fuck is going on but," She shook her head, I cringed at the way she said fuck. I hated that fucking word. "We need to get out of here." She said looking around at the predicament we were in. We weren't scared girls, we really weren't, but we were in the type of place where grown ass men get molested.  
"I can't I don't- I didn't do it." I struggled to say. "I just- poof." I flung my hand out to the side and an old woman walking up her stairs was projected into her front door. Emma bit her lip and I guess I looked like I was about to cry. "I can't control it." I whispered.

  
"Okay, what were you doing the last time you.. poofed?" She asked.

  
I thought back to the time. "I was freaking out, I didn't know what to do, you couldn't see my hand, which were glowing by the way, so I just wanted to go somewhere when you scared me." I thought harder. "Then I thought about that movie we watched last night."

  
"Evil Dead?" She asked, I nodded. "Well, maybe you poofed us away to that place because it looks similar."

  
"But I've never been here before."

  
"I guess magic doesn't know that." She muttered. I looked up with my doe eyes. That I don't have.

  
"You- magic?" I asked, quickly shaking my head. "You think I have.. magic?" I laughed.

  
"Well that's the only explanation we have for how you just used the Force against that old broad!" She exclaimed and her hand flung over that way.

  
I nodded quickly. "Okay, uh." I continued to nod until it turned into a shake. "I don't know what to do." I said.

  
"Come on, I'm sure we can find a bus stop somewhere." She took my elbow and dragged me down the sidewalk, I turned back to get a glance at the elderly woman who I had Jedi'd into a slab of wood, she was moving, she was fine.

  
"Shouldn't we help her?" I asked.

  
"No!" Emma dragged me harder.

 

Well, it took a couple of hours and the bribing of a homeless man and his dog to get here, but here we are, home sweet home. It was dark by the time we arrived, but my parents were still at work. Sadly, my sister was present and accounted for.  
"Where were you?" She asked, hands on her hips.

  
"Out, you knew that." I smiled. she was younger than me, nine to be exact. "Where's Walt?" I asked. Walt was her sitter, he was about nineteen and trying to pay his way through his halfway house. He worked at the mattress shop down town but it wasn't sustainable business and when my parents met him in search of a slide bed for Zelena, they hit it off, and he was the first person outside out family she smiled at.  
Here he is, eating all of our salsa. It was really good salsa, my Dad made it fresh and that man knew his way around a food processor, believe that.

  
"Hey Walt." I said pointedly, leaning on the counter. "How you doing?" I leaned closer and pulled the bowl towards me, along with the bag.

  
He smirked down at the stolen items and stood. "You're lucky it's your birthday." He said and filled a glass with water. "How was it? Your little party?" He asked.

  
Emma and I looked at each other before I sniffed. "It was.. uh.. good, we had a little adventure." I nodded and smiled.

  
"Huh." He said and twirled is hair. "Well, glad you got here when ya did because I have gots to go." He said and tossed his coat over his shoulder. "She didn't eat yet and just woke up from a hot cocoa induced nap." He kissed my sister on the head and smiled at me. "Good luck, birthday girl," He nodded. "Emma." The he was out the door.

  
"I hate that guy." I said and snapped a chip between my teeth, crunching violently.

  
"Regina!" Emma cried out, I looked shocked and handed her a chip which she smacked to the ground.

  
"Hey," I whined, staring at the chip longingly.

  
"This." She took the bowl. "Is." She took the back. "Serious!" She threw the bowl in the fridge and the chips in the pantry.

  
"What?" I asked. "So I can't eat?"

  
"I'm scared, this isn't a game what if you're the next," She looked about. "He-who-must-not-be-named." She finished.

  
"I'm not, I'll just ask my parents when they get home." I said.

  
"No!" She screeched. I jumped back a bit, not used to her yelling in my face. "No, they might think you're crazy." She mumbled.

  
"Do you think I'm crazy?" I asked.

  
Emma looked me straight in the eyes, then pursed her lips. "No." She answered. "I swear." She held out her pinky to me, I smiled and hooked it.

 

Lot's of mistakes because I am a mess! Also my spell check line vanished so, you know, technology. Thoughts? (not on my spelling, of course) I have this on FF.NET Under a different title (where’s and why’s) Either way, yay!


	2. Chapter Two

G!P For the last portion.

10 Years Later

We’d been sitting here for hours. How many? I’d lost count. It’s amusing now because to think that we were in such a rush to get here in the first place. I have always hated airports, but we can never catch a break. Not since we graduated high school. Even before, we were bouncing around. After my year I discovered my powers, everything changed, not in the way I had expected. Surprisingly, it was easy to keep the secret from my parents for all those years.

  
Well, all four of them that is.

  
There was an accident, they were on their way home from a banquet dinner for my mother’s company, it was voted top in marketing in the whole country.

Understandably, they had a few drinks, but my father didn’t believe in cabs or limos, he didn’t trust anyone behind the wheel. It was stupid, he was a typical man that they portray in all the movies, who would drop dead before he would ask for directions, or let a woman drive. I guess he dug that hole for himself. Sometimes, it’s hard to get over yourself and do the right thing.

  
Especially when you as well as your spouse are skunk kicking drunk in the middle of the woods. It was held at a lodge about forty miles away from Seattle, where we had been living for the past two years. I guess anyone could do the math with a situation like that, drunk, car, drove right off the side of the road. But, I bet they died laughing. Or at least I hope they did.

  
I wished for so long that my abilities could reach as far as bringing them back, but they couldn’t. Maybe that’s for the best, who am I to mess with fate? I’ve long since stopped mourning them, because they would have wanted that. It doesn’t stop me from having my moments when I see mother’s favorite flower; a yellow rose. Or Daddy’s mercedes in my garage, waiting to be driven, but I won’t. He wouldn’t want me to, besides I’ve been driving the same truck since I was 16. I wasn’t ready to turn it over to the dump, where according to Emma, it belonged.

  
Yeah, Emma and I stayed together. Best friends up until around two years ago when we turned 21.

  
It wasn’t at a bar, it was up in the woods in an RV we had planned to drive across Canada in. We were looking for answers, but we found booze. Lots of it and now we were both legal. Emma was born in early December so for two months I got to watch her go out and refuse to drink with me until it was legal. It wasn’t a strict thing, she’s just an asshole. So once I turned over, we found a liquor store, and we drank it.  
Cliche drunken confessions led to me spilling out how I had a huge crush on her, but I thought she only liked men. She laughed, for about thirty seconds. I didn’t know what was so funny because I’d seen her with men at bars, I’ve been in the same room while she was fucking her last boyfriend, but she laughed.

  
Me, I’ve been with a man. I didn’t love him, but he loved me. I had told him I was a lesbian more times than I can count. That’s not true, I can count pretty high. Besides the point, I told him many times, but he just pursued me. It was like talking to a brick wall, or maybe he just didn’t know what ‘gay’ meant. It’s not like he was an asshole, he was lovely, became my close friend and the first person to get me drunk. He was there when I cried about Emma after she had found Guyliner, as I deemed him, and ran off with him for six months. He was all I had, and he stayed. He didn’t force himself on me, if we’re being honest I forced myself on him. Not that he protested.

  
However, it was that night that I realized just how gay I am. The answer is very. Penis, it was wonderful, but men are boring, at least to me. So uncomplicated.

  
That is behind me, and Emma and I have been together as a somewhat functioning couple for two years. As I remembered out first night, and all the night in between I smiled and looked over to her. She was incredibly focused on her phone, reading something in a language I wasn’t fluent in. I leaned my head on her shoulder and sighed.

  
“You know, this is bullshit, flight was supposed to leave over three fucking hours ago.” She whined and I just stayed silent. I brought my hand up to rest on her stomach, twirling with the ends of her shirt. It was my absolute least favorite, it was dark brown with orange lining and the characters from Looney Toons running around the center. I’ve had to look at it since we were seventeen and she found it at a yard sale in Nebraska. Though since then it had gone through the mill and rode up her abdomen enough to expose her hip bones if her jeans were low enough. Which they were.

  
I tickled her tummy because it was my favorite part of her body. She didn’t have prominent abs, not anymore. We relinquished exercise aside from hiking after graduation. It’s safe to say we’ve put on a bit of weight. Meaning that now a days, Emma’s thighs jiggle and my stomach is all squish and a hint of muffin top. It’s cute though, we’re cute. Or at least that’s what we tell ourselves.

  
“We have time.” I said, my finger slipping in just under her button. I smirked when she twitched. Then, she grabbed my hand and held it.

  
“I don’t think so,” She tossed it over towards me lightly, I took it back and rested it under my chin, my head now in her lap. “

  
“Are you not going to play with my hair?” I asked, she chuckled, my head moved with her as she did. Then I felt cool fingers running over my scalp, gripping and twirling my hair, messing it up even more than it already was.

  
“You think this time’ll be different?” She asked quietly. I nodded, she pulled her hand away, I turned up to face her. “Why?”

  
“Just a feeling.” I murmured. We were heading to Maine, landing in Portland then driving down a hundred miles or so to a town called Storybrooke. It was the place we’d spent so long trying to find, we’d almost traveled the world searching for answers and coming up dry, but then we heard of a man, a traveler. He was there, at least for now, his name was Mr. Gold, at least in this world. It’s a fake alias if I’d ever heard one. I just hope he has the answers we seek. I need that. I really need answers.

  
“What if-“ She began, I’m not in the mood to hear her negativity. She used to think this was fun, traveling. She didn’t of it like I did. For me, of course it was fun and I loved spending time with her and seeing all these new places with her, but it was also a search for something that I needed to feel safe. I haven”t felt safe since it all happened. I feel exposed because I know that if anyone found out then I’d be done for. Maybe I’m just being cynical.

  
“No,” I said. “Please.” I looked up seeing a freckle under her chin. “Not now.” She tried to look down at me, but just shook her head.

  
“Fine.” She said, she tensed up and it made me not want to be so near her. So, I sat up and crossed my arms, she looked at me, I could see her from the corner of my eye. Not this again. This argument always started the same way. “Regina, look,”

  
“Emma!” I hissed. “I know what you’re going to say,”

  
“So why do you keep avoiding the subject?” She interrupted.

  
“Because, I already told you, the fact that you keep bringing it up only irritates and depresses me.” I sighed. “I just want answers, you don’t have to stay with me, you know that.” I glared at her. “I tell you every time that you can leave.”

  
Her gaze softened and she tilted her head. “Is that what you want?” She asked.  
I bit my lip and thought over the question, of course I didn’t want that, I was in love. Love was something I didn’t feel like I deserved because.. because I just didn’t. Here I am, and I have it, how could I just let that go? “I-“ I managed. “I want whatever will make you happy, Emma.”

  
“Don’t give me that shit.” I watched as she rolled her eyes. I looked away, I didn’t understand how she could be so insensitive, like, all the time. It hurt, to be treated like this all the time. I didn’t understand it and I didn’t want, she was hardly ever happy.  
“After this trip.” I said.

  
“What?” She asked and turned fully to face me. I glanced down at that god-awful shirt and pursed my lips into half smile.

  
“It’s over.” I sighed. “I won’t look anymore, I promise.” I said, she smiled and grabbed my hand, pulled me into her. I wasn’t happy, but I couldn’t lose her. I wanted to make her happy, but I wanted to be happy too, and how could I if I gave this up? This search is all I’ve known, it’s all I have held on to for so long and giving it up is like giving everything up. I don’t like to give up, not until I won. I haven’t won this, not yet.

  
“I love you.” She whispered into my hair. I smiled and my fingers tingled, I touched her leg and imagined the spell. Our favorite spell. I felt it, against my back, standing at full attention, I grinned.

  
Over time, we’ve picked up a few things, spells and incantations but nothing concrete aside from that.

  
Emma moved uncomfortably and I sat up and straddled her where we sat. Never ashamed of who we are and what we do. I grinned down at her salaciously and she looked up at me with dilated pupils full of desire. Then she looked to my lips, unpainted and just a bit dry. I licked over them before blanketing them over hers, she gasped into the invasion. Her breath smelled like chai and she tasted the same. I slipped my tongue past her lips and pressed it to her teeth, ran it over them as she tried with her own to tango. I smiled into the kiss as she bit my tongue. My left hand was twirling the hair closest to the nape of her neck as my right drifted down to the member that had grown with between her thighs. Her hips jutted into my hand and I chuckled at the power she relinquished to me. Right between by fingers.

  
“Come on.” I said and stood, taking her hand with me. She jumped up after me, I walked in front of her to hide the bulge. The airport wasn’t too crowded, it was the end of fall in Las Vegas, we’ve been here a few months, it was a great place, once you got past all the fucking tourists. We were tourists, but we didn’t stay in any of the fancy hotel on the famous Strip, we stayed up north where there was less human traffic and more stars. Hardly, but still.

  
We passed the slot machines and slipped into the bathroom, we took full advantage of the handicap access and door. The others did not have doors. I slammed it shut and twisted the lock, the sink counter was large and had the most beautiful mirror. I pushed Emma up against the far wall and cupped her face with little grace. I pinched at her cheeks, pulling her down into me. I bit and sucked on her lips and tongue, she gasped and moaned into the sensations, with a final nip I tipped her head to the side, her hair behind her ear and licked over her pulse point. She tasted like mint from the lotion we had made on evening. It was all natural and made the skin softer than ever. I bit into, she squeaked and I smiled with her skin in between my teeth, she grabbed my hand and slapped it on to her waist.

  
“Eager?” I whispered into her ear and ran my tongue over the shell of it.  
She was breathing hard and ragged, her eyes heavy as she glanced to me. I saw the shift as she moved and grabbed my shoulder roughly, pressed me down to my knees. I giggled like a small girl, a sound that in any other situation I would make sure never elicited from my vocal cords.

  
I began to unbutton her jeans, revealing a pair of lacy gray panties with a little pink bow that had been stretched and ripped in some places. Beyond the lace I saw the cock that I had given her. I yanked her pants down to her knees along with the lace guardians and allowed for her the false manhood to be set straight in all of it’s glory. The size varied, this time it wasn’t too large, as it had been before. Maybe six inches, but it was superior in it’s diameter.

  
I ran my cold tongue over the tip and tasted the essence of her, a taste I could never forget. She moaned and fisted her bony fingers into my mused hair. I hummed as she pushed forward into the depth of my open mouth, filling me with all of her. I gripped the base and he grip loosened. I felt her pull my hair a bit when I did so, one of the light curls that had grown there caught in my ring as I raked through them lightly.  
I heard as well as felt the glucking and slipping sounds of the tip filling my mouth and rubbing up against the roof of my mouth. I ran my tongue over the hard member from left to right, sucking as much as I could and pressing my lips over the veins that decorated it.

  
Emma would gasp and moan with each thrust as they became ragged and without rhythm. I was taking all of her now and enjoying each glorious moment. She grunted as I felt her liquid excitement begin to drip. No warning, not as if I expected one, but I braced myself for the spurt that I knew was coming. I waited but only for a moment as she came with a throaty moan. I swallowed all of her and relished at the tasted as I pulled back and off of her with a pop. I wiped my lips and stood, her eyes were on my the whole time, she cupped my face and pulled me into a heated kiss.

  
Emma was restless, she bit and pulled my tongue into her mouth and circled it with her own, but I pulled it out and without any passion I no less than attempted to swallow her face. I began to strip myself of my leggings, pulling my legs out and kicking them to the side without care. I pulled away from Emma and took seat on the counter with the beautiful mirror behind it. Wearing noting but my cotton tank and silky panties.

  
Emma smirked and moved towards me, kissing me once more on the lips, before sucking my neck, pecking and licking over my collar bones. She slipped off my top, and I wasn’t wearing a bra, so she smiled and rolled her tongue over my breasts, popping over the hard center. I saw her hand find her cock as she began to rub over it, and it was hard in no time at all. Between my thighs, I knew that there was a pool. She reached between and pushed the navy material aside, plunged into my pussy with a single finger, curling it in as I gasped at the beautiful intrusion.

  
The member was removed and she studied it, I expected her to taste it, to taste me, but she only smiled and poked me on the nose with it. I laughed and pulled her into a kiss as she entered me. I moaned against my will, it was high pitched and short. Emma pulled back and gripped herself, pulling out her member and running it over my folds, I could her the sounds it made as it played over.

  
“Please,” I gasped. She raised a brow. “Please, Emma, fuck me.” My head fell back, my hair tickling my back as she entered me once one and began to pump into me, fast and hard, her testes slapping against me. Then, slowly but no less hard, grinding in at a new angle and hitting me where I was still dry. I moaned a little too loud for my liking. Now, she picked me up and my arms wrapped around her, nails raking at her shoulder blades, maybe I’d ever draw blood.

  
I bit her shoulder blade, moaned into the hot skin, just barely slick with sweat as she breathed long and loudly into my hair, I could feel the warmth of her breath tingling my ear. She pounding into me, I bounced up and down as I felt myself, and m pleasure building. It was becoming so intense that I feared I might pass out. All I could see and feel was her. Not that I could see anything with my eyes pinned shut. I knew that I was close to screaming, but I could care less.

  
I felt her hot cock between my legs, my last thought before I came was how I never wanted this to end. When I did, I saw stars, then it was over, flowing out of me was the heat of this moment and the essence of myself and of her, what I felt for her.


	3. Chapter Three

September, 4 Years After.

Emma’s POV

It’d been rough night.

  
I guess you could say that, we all loved Regina’s parents, it was impossible not to. They were great people. When we got the call, I saw all the light fall from her face and I saw the first tears form in her eyes. I guess you could say I saw the moment her heart broke for the first time.

  
Maybe it wasn’t them that made me cry and that they were gone, maybe it was her. This, my best friend who is so strong and intelligent and undeserving of pain, had so much of it. I didn’t want to cry, but it wasn’t up to me. I wanted to be strong for her, but that wasn’t an easy thing to do when her weakness was what scared me the most.  
I know it’s selfish, that right now, and always really, I’m supposed to be the strong one, the stable one, the one who is immune to the ‘all is lost’ moments that for us, are never few and far between. I can’t be, I can’t be there for her, even if I could be it wouldn’t be enough because who am I to tell her that it’ll all be okay, that she’ll be okay? I don’t lie, not to her, well, not to anyone, but really not to her. So I watched as she hung up the phone, uttering a ‘thank you’ because that’s the way she was brought up to be, polite against her will.

  
That’s when she looked at me, it was the scariest look I’d ever seen on her face. She looked so young, lost. I’d never seen her look so lost, even when she was being beat down by men and women at a rally that had turned sour, ended in violence and broken bones and bail bonds galore. I met her eyes, but I didn’t know how to sympathize, I opened my mouth but nothing came out, it was as if she had taken my words, I wish she would have so that it could have explained why I couldn’t speak. Why I couldn’t be with her when she needed me the most.

  
I looked over to the sink where there was a pile of dirty dishes from earlier that evening, stained with sauce from the pasta we’d murdered. Then others littered with vegetables and rice and meat from the Korean takeout that was much more edible. I don’t know why I did it, but I walked over to the sink and let out a giant sigh as I picked up the top and and threw it against the marble of the wall. It shattered and the sound echoed throughout the house, a tear streamed down my cheek as I looked to see Regina with her fingers in her ears, but the start of a smile on her face. I picked up another and handed it to her. She just stared at it a moment before smashing it to the ground, bits of porcelain rained over her black painted toes.

  
That’s how we ended up shattering the legacy of casual china that her late parents had left behind. Which was fine, we didn’t like the pattern any way. After the fun, she had smiled a watery smile and laughed, but her laughter turned almost instantly to tears and she ran up the winding staircase, slamming a door shut after her. I don’t know which one, because I didn’t follow her.

  
Does that make me a bad person, does that make me heartless? I don’t know anymore. No one ever taught me to coddle or comfort. No one ever taught me words of wisdom or love. I was taught discipline and the art of masking. It got me far in most aspects of life, but now I’m feeling a bit like Switzerland, impartial to any and all. I am feeling incapable of compassion, actually I feel capable, but reaching that ability is difficult, I can see in, the tips of my fingers can brush it, but I can never take it within my grasp and allow it to become a real part of me that I am able to manipulate.

  
I do try, it’s not as if I am willing to this feeling of indifference. I feel it when I fuck, but not before and not after when I’m left sticky with the essence of someone who I now see, I do not love. They do not love me. Love, is something that everyone sees as a burden, at least now a days. It’s seen as a burden because it ends in travesty, heartbreak, death, and there’s no way to win. It’s a burden to those who can feel, who do feel, but imagine if you weren’t allowed that luxury. Then, you would crave love, do anything to feel it for the simple reason that you can’t have it. Love, is no burden, it is simply another act of life that begins and ends. As everything must.

  
Though there will always be someone to argue the theory of energy recycling. How energy can be neither created nor destroyed, which I would agree with. However, energy can be displaced anywhere, what if the energy that is within the last being who died is now fueling the light that allows us to see? Also, what about the animals, people are so arrogant that they believe only we go to heaven or hell, only we have souls, we are superior, but they seem to forget where we came from, the animals. It shows in the human pattern of habit. Take war, we fight over territory, beliefs, needs and wants just as the animals, but due to our higher intelligence we see this as primal, simply because it is, but we think we’re better but if we were we wouldn’t follow the same habits. It’s too late to reverse them as they are fabricated into the who and what of us as a whole.

  
Just as it is etched into the state of my being to be unfeeling even when feeling is all I want to do. It is, but I can’t, and now, I can not even comfort my best friend. My only friend. Even if I could, I wouldn’t be enough.

  
She’s lost everything. Her sister found her real father and left in a furious huff just last year, it had been a turning point in the nature of her parent’s relationship. They had been uneasy to trust and found themselves in uncomfortable silences more often than not. I guess they’re like me, except they have too many emotions, but they don’t know how to express them.

  
I need to learn. For her. So, I step carefully up the steps, my socks sliding a bit as I did so. I found the light off in the bathroom, but she hated the fluorescents, so she always left them off. I tried to knob, it was open, but she wasn’t there. The door to her room was open, her bed unmade, but void of her. The room that belonged to her parents was closed, I tried it, it opened to my touch, I was almost disappointed, no not almost, I was. I held myself there a moment before stepping in. She was sitting on the opposite side of the bed, clutching a pillow, staring out the window. It seemed funny, as it was pouring rain as it often did here, it was almost karmically destined for the weather to be as destructive as I saw she felt.

  
I moved slowly beside her, first taking seat on the bed, then scooting off to be next to her, our shoulders touched, she wasn’t crying, but I could tell she was and still wanted to. I opened my mouth again, and again, but I couldn’t find the words to say. ‘It’s fine’ or ‘are you okay’ or any other bullshit.

  
“It’s okay.” She said roughly, nearly inaudible. “You don’t have to say anything.” She said, and I just nodded and put my arm around her, she leaned into me and drew in a shaky breath, I was expecting an exhale just the same but instead came out a sob, followed by another, and another. I could hear her raw, choking on her heart and the wetness of her tears. She shook and sounded like a child who had broken her arm, which is a fact as this is exactly how the child who’s arm I set right at a park sounded when she cried.

  
This, was different, because this mattered. Her arms snaked around my waist and she held on to me like I was the only thing keeping her from drowning into the ocean of sorrow that’s waves were consuming. Consuming her, consuming me, but not taking us. I guess, not today. I sat there with her, as her tears subsided and she went limp beside me, falling asleep, which I was glad for. Not because I could deal with her, but because she didn’t deserve to deal with this. I picked her up and took her to her room, covering her so she wouldn’t be cold. I kissed her forehead and tucked her hair behind her ears. Then, I left.

  
Not left, but went downstairs and sat in the den. I turned on the television and flipped it to the channel that always played classic rock. It tuned out the violent pang of the rain, but hardly as I turned it low, because I also liked the sound of rain. Though sometimes it was deafening, monotonous and it would begin to give me headaches or lose myself in my mind, which is not a place I wanted to go.

  
I shot up, in a huff, I needed to talk to someone, someone who was stronger than me. So I pulled out my cell and called the number that my parents had this week. This week as they were backpacking Russia. No where specific, not that they had disclosed, simply Russia. They had been gone and never returned since the week of Regina’s thirteenth birthday, since she found who she was. Whatever, that was.  
The number rang four times, five. Then there was an answer.

  
“Hello?” Came my mother’s soft voice, I sighed out in relief.

  
“Momma.” I sad quietly. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I-“ I wiped a tear that had fallen.

  
“Emma?” She asked, I sniveled.

  
“Yeah, I’m.” Was all I said before I was racked with a slow sob.

  
“Emma, what happened?” I was asked.

  
“It’s the Mills’, they died tonight.” I opened my eyes to the dimly lit room, I felt as though it was beginning to close in on me. “I don’t.. know what to do.”  
“Why not?” She asked softly.

  
“Because, Mom, I’m not good at this kind of thing.” I replied hesitantly.

  
“What kind of thing?”

  
“Regina’s... grieving.” I answered.

  
“I see.” She said. “Well, what do you need?”

  
I was taken back by her question, I was surprised because I seemed to have forgotten that I needed a reason to call my mother. “Nothing, I just wanted to talk to you.” I whispered.

  
“Emma,” She said, it’s like I could see her crossing her legs and sitting up straighter. “Are you dying?” She asked.

  
“No.” I shook my head.

  
“Can you handle yourself?” She asked.

  
“Yes.” I answered honestly. “But Regina-“ I began.

  
“Is not your responsibility.” She interrupted.

  
I shook my head. “She’s my best friend, how could you?” I asked, scoffed. “How could you say that.”

  
“Emma, I’m just stating the facts and if you feel obligated to her, then that’s fine, but don’t come and complain to me if you are simply going to argue with the advice that I provide.” She replied stoically. She was right, but only from halfway across the planet.

  
“You’re right.” I answered. “I won’t call you again.”

  
“Emma that’s not what I-“ She began, but I’d heard enough. For the first time in my whole life, I had been the one to cut her off.

  
I looked about the room and let out one rigid breath before wiping my tears and stepping up, switching off the television and slowly stepping up the stairs. I felt like I was in a movie, that’s the only explanation for this and how fucked it all was. Fucked, that’s what this was. I know I’ll regret this, but I wish that it had been my parents instead of hers. I really do, because no one would mourn their loss expect me, and that is hardly enough, I don’t feel as though I would even cry. I can’t rule that out though because you always assume how you will react to a situation until it happens then it’s a completely different ball game.

  
I wish it was, because she didn’t deserve this, they didn’t deserve this. I supposed though, not many people do, good people die everyday. So do the wicked and the damned. Though it’s more appealing to our emotions to only think of the good dying because then it’s justification for why things happen. Though there is no justification in death as there is nothing to justify, no loose end to uphold, it’s just the end to the process of living. Just as the sun rises it must set, so we must be born and we must die. However, that doesn’t seem to matter as what does it what we do with the time we have. When the day ends, we will still feel like it wasn’t enough. Nothing is ever enough. There will always be that one thing that you didn’t do, if it isn’t one thing then it’s another, it’s a never ending cycle of ‘if’s’ and ‘why’s’.

  
If I did this, why didn’t I do this. Questions that have no answers because they aren’t meant to have them, they develop out of the human ability to see the future and know that we are destined to die. That is why, human’s have such a hard time accepting fate, because it’s the only thing that finds us all. We can bend it with out choices, but we can’t break it. Fate is moldable to each and everyone, but it is not and may never be escapable. I guess in a sense you choose your own destiny whether you know it or not.

  
I like to believe that choices and thoughts all add up to a bigger picture. As if everything we think and feel counts in some way or another, no one is as insignificant of significant as they may feel. I matter as much as some big star or the president and they matter as much as me or the homeless man who lives in a box and eats cat food. As we are all the same, and money and power are only constructs of man. Limitations of man.

  
Though no one can see the bigger picture, if they can then it’s different to each individual as they perceive it as one way, then I or another sees it a divergent way.  
However, I don’t know how I see the world. Not really, and I’ve given it quite a bit of thought, but then I shrug it off because it makes my head hurt and I realize that I don’t really care, not as much as I should because I’m going to die one way or another before an secular meaning is found. Even if it is, I wouldn’t believe it to be true because nothing and no one can tell me how to see or feel about the world. My view is all that I have, it’s all that anyone has.

  
I see it now, in this moment as a place without order and without sense. As I climb those steps that feel steeper than ever I realize that I feel so small and useless. I am small, I am without use, and when I die I hope than no one will grieve my meaningless existence, I really don’t because I wouldn’t cry for me.

  
In this moment the air seems as if it’s getting thinner, as if I’m climbing up a mountain that reaches up and out of the atmosphere, and I know that, but I don’t stop. I keep going, and I’m waiting for my lungs to turn to bloody sacks devoid of oxygen which is all they ask. I push open the door to her room, the blue of her comforter is even more so from the quiet light that seeps in through the window, the reflection of the drops that decorate it, moving but never disappearing. I climb into the bed beside her and under the covers. I pull them over my arms and face away from her, to the wall. I study the color as I remember painting it on the first day we had moved here. The color was one that she had me pick, because she couldn’t make a decision. She never could, I guess that’s why we worked so well, and she always would smile and nod because she liked whatever I chose. I could never understand why, but I don’t think I needed to.

 

“I don’t know!” She whined. “I mean, I like the blue because my room would never be that awful shade of yellow, you know, but the purple is darker and more relaxing, my tapestry would flow so nicely with it!” She held them in front of herself and frowned.  
I smiled and studied her, I have learned to read her quite well, she was leaning more towards the blue because it reminded her of the ocean, which was one of her favorite places to be. The waves, the sand, the comfort of knowing that she was safe on the land. “Purple.” I answered. She nodded then frowned. “Because it’s darker and also, your last room was blue. You should switch it up.”

  
She smiled and nodded, placing the pallet down, the blue one that it. Then she linked my arm and skipped over to the counter, letting go of me to lean over it and smile at the cashier. She slid it over, her nails were an earthy shade of green, I could remember choosing that color too, and I’m glad I did.

  
“I need two gallons of this-“ She pointed to the darkest on the pallet. “Uh, Ultraviolet Night.” She answered and flashed him her awarded winning smile. He flushed and smiled back, turning and tripping over the step ladder behind him. “Are you okay?” She asked with a smirk.

  
“Yeah- uh, yeah, just a sec.” He said and blushed. I scowled against my will. I hated when men hit on her, but I would never admit this to her because that would involve revealing too much and I didn’t think she would accept that or want me in the way I did her. So I pursed my lips and turned away as she jumped up and faced me with a grin. I smiled back as she jumped into me with her arm draped over my shoulders, she smelled like shampoo, the kind that we had decided to use after moving her that calmed frizz and poof. Also of lemon and lavender, which was the scent of the lotions we had learned to make one night that we had nothing better to do except create.

  
“I’m so excited!” She let me go, and clapped.

  
“Why?” I laughed. “We go through this like twice a month?” I asked, referring to all the times we have moved, and likely all the times we would continue to move.

  
“Because, I like change.” She said and smiled once more, turning when she heard the sound of the paint being placed on the lacquer counter. “Thank you,” She said and pulled out her wallet, studying his name tag, it read Roy. Roy Sauce. It didn’t say that, but he was Asian and I was bitter. “Roy.”

  
He smiled again, he was under her spell. Though this time it was figurative and not literal, as he could quite literally be under her spell, but she didn’t need magic to make men swoon. “No problem.” He said. “I don’t know your name.”

  
“I know.” She grinned and handed him fifty dollars, which would more than cover the paint. “Keep the change.” She winked and pulled the paint off the counter, I smiled at him as she past me.

  
I followed her out to her car, which she insisted on bringing, even though she couldn’t drive yet without an adult, she forced me to pedal around in that rust bucket because she liked the way it looked. I agreed, of course, no reason to put the miles on my own car if I didn’t need to.

  
I remember that day often, it was the day we had settled in the new house up here. She cried when we moved, she loved Portland, she cried when we arrived because she knew she’d love it hear. I guess she cried a lot, but it wasn’t annoying because it wasn’t whiny crying, it was just tears that flowed a moment then subsided. I’m sure if it were whiny I would hardly be able to stand her, but it’s not and I am.

  
Here I am, recalling the day that we decided on Ultraviolet Night, and seeing the color now, and it hasn’t faded a bit. I run my finger over the wall that is cool as the air inside the room. I allow myself a moment to close my eyes a breathe, be appreciative of the fact that for the time being, I am not responsible for anything, or anyone and that I have the night to be here and breathe. Those are the moments that I appreciate the most, because they are the ones that bring peace and consistence that I hardly feel otherwise.

  
Just as I am about to fall under the spell of sleep, breathing a rhythm of in 4 and out 7, there is movement beside me, Regina shuffles and turns with a sigh, towards me. I feel her arm under the covers wrap over my hips, she using this leverage to pull into me, then there is no space between us. I smile as I rest into her, because I wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

In the morning, the sun is blocked by clouds the color of pencil lead. I turn to see that I am alone in the bed, I turn to the little pink clock and it reads 7:46, clearly it’s a.m. I stretch out, look down to see that there is a note on the bed, at my feet. I swipe it up and unfold the sunny lined paper. It says that she went out to clear her head, I know that this means she went to the woods with her journal to sit on the big rock that resembles a horse and is always ten degrees colder than the shade it’s in.

  
I’m not going to follow her, because this is her time and I respect that, besides, I need this time to process, decide what we need to do next.

  
In their will it was instructed that they will be cremated, and all they have will be spilt between Regina and Zelena. Though after her departure, it went more seventy-five to twenty-five. Now, it was too soon to fully know what was what and who was where, so the bodies were likely still in bags. I don’t want to think about this, I don’t need to think about this yet. I jump into the shower and scrub myself raw for thirty minutes, letting the heat consume me and drown out any thoughts that might have plagued me prior to this engagement.

  
I step out and past the curtain, I don’t bother clearing the fog off the mirror as I brush my teeth, ignoring the feeling of my gums beginning to bleed onto the bristles. I spit toothpaste and blood into the sink, the rinse with peroxide as it is supposed to whiten. I believe it helps, but maybe that’s only because I want it to.

  
I braid my hair to the left, the layered strand of what was once bangs falls out on each side and hangs there. I tuck them back and head into Regina’s room, which we shared. Though there was space for me to have my own room, she asked me to stay with her. I agreed, only because I didn’t have a bed, or the will to decorate.

  
I pull the door to the closet closet to the door open and scan through it until I find something suitable. A pair of high waist dark wash shorts, with rips over the pockets, and a mustard yellow and navy striped top. I pull these on, foregoing a bra, but over flowered cotton panties that I probably got a a grocery store. I sat on the floor of the space and lathered myself in hemp lotion that smelled of coconut before slipping on a gray pair of ankle socks to go under a pair of white high top converse.

  
I stood, and checked myself over, but not in the mirror, then I grabbed my keys and shot down the stairs. I looked over the disarray we had left in the kitchen and frowned, a part of me wanted to sweep it up, but a bigger part just wanted to leave. So, I let that part win, and after picking up a bottle of water from the fridge I was out the front door and pacing my way to where my car was parked in the drive way.

  
Now, I was glad Regina had left, because if not I would have been blocked in. I swung open the door to the red Acura legend, year 95. Best car in the world, if you ask me. I had bought it a month after my sixteenth birthday, when the car I had for three weeks broke down in the middle of the highway, a yellow bug. Damn, was I disappointed.  
This car surpassed that one in every possible way, aside from cuteness. I loved it. I started it up and sighed into the wheel as I leaned against it, before checking with my mirrors and pulling out of the drive.  
I drove around a bit, just enjoying the freedom of being able to do so, but then I felt the need to stop at our favorite coffee shop. It was called Roath, it had the strongest and best coffee, probably in all of Washington, not that I could truly make that claim, but I did. I stopped in and ordered my favorite, a vanilla chai latte. Just because they had coffee, didn’t mean I was going to drink it. I was handed my drink, I took seat outside and savored it, watching the day pass by, the people, and wondering what they were doing and where they were going.  
If they even knew.


	4. Chapter Four

Five Years After  
Regina’s POV

 

I liked to watch her when she didn’t know I was, that’s when I could see her guard let down and her truly beautiful self emerge. Emma tried so hard to be the strong one, the stable one, she didn’t think I noticed it, she thought I took it for granted, but I didn’t. Not at all.

  
I just didn’t know how to thank her without her getting uncomfortable or just saying it was ‘no big deal’ as she always did. I think she knows that to me, just having her here makes all the difference, if I didn’t have her, then I don’t want to know where I’d be. As I thought of Emma, my magic flared up, the leaves that decorated the forest floor that we sat in rose up and hovered around me, bouncing slightly. I smiled because it was beautiful, I closed my eyes and continued to think about forbidden love, I felt the wind pick up and the stray tree children swirled around me like a small tornado all of my own. I laughed, it broke my concentration, because now I was trying and my abilities didn’t like that very much.

  
The leaves fell all around me, in my hair, on my bare legs. I plucked them out and shook them off as I stood, taking the canteen with me. I glanced over at Emma once more, she was trying to tune her cello. I don’t know why she humped it with us, but she insisted. It was brilliant, she just saw it in the window of this antique shop in Wisconsin and decided she had to have it. She taught herself to play, she taught herself everything.

 

 

“I need it.” She said, stopping dead in the snow and turning to face the window, touching the glass, her fingertips leaving prints after she removed them. I looked through the window to see an cherry wood cello, the bow hair was crafted from a mane of chestnut, it was beautiful. I smiled and followed her into the shop, the door opened, the bell sang with our arrival.

  
“Hello, hello!” A cheery voice fluttered down the steps to a second story. I glanced up at a frail woman wearing all yellow, her peppered hair pinned back with what looked like chopsticks.

  
“Hi,” I greeted, removing my wool trench coat, leaving me in a sparkled blue sweater and black leggings with small pink polka dots littering the surface. The woman smiled wide and I returned it, turning to Emma who was feeling up the cello.  
“Anything I can help you with?” She asked, looking to Emma, then to me. I frowned at my friend then looked to the woman kindly.

  
“Hi, I’m Regina.” I said and extended my hand, she shook it lightly, with a fairy grip that I thought showed her fairy like nature.

  
“Lovely to meet you, Regina. I’m Sugar.” She said, not letting go of my hand, but placing her other one over it instead. My smiled faded and I looked down at the conjoined parts in a state of confusion. “I’m sorry.” She said quietly, her smile melting into a warm one. I took back my hand and folded my arms. “Would you like to have tea?” She asked.

  
I looked back at Emma, who was plucking at the strings, looking very concentrated. I watched her a moment with a grin playing on my face, turning back to the woman who seemed to be studying me intently.

  
I nodded. “Okay,” I smiled once more. “Yes, tea sounds fabulous.” She clapped and took my hand, pulling me up the stairs and into a room with walls of stained glass that had no pattern but were all colors, in all shades. If I wall is made of glass is it a wall? Or does the glass construction make it more considerable to a window? If so, then I was in a window dome. A windome.

  
I was sat down into a chair of velvet, the legs were the horns of rams. I believe they were rams, they didn’t look like goats, or bulls. So, I’m going with rams horn. I settled into the seat and looked about the space. The walls were bare, the floor was of wood that looked nearly black, with scratches here and nicks there. The table between us was glass held up by a plastic leg, she placed two coasters on it, then mugs that did not match. Mine was in the shape of two hands, hers was a anatomically correct uterus. I laughed at that one.

  
Sugar smiled, she never stopped smiling, it creeped me out a bit. I was waiting for her to pull a scalpel out of her hair and slice me open, maybe harvest my uterus and drink it out of that mug. I laughed internally at myself, because if not me, then who?  
She poured a dark liquid into my cup. “Earl Grey, I hope you like it strong.” She said and sat. I nodded, I did appreciate strong tea. I sipped it and coughed, it was the tea equivalent of moonshine. “I should have warned you.” She said and took a small sip of hers.

  
“I don’t know what I was expecting.” I laughed and placed the mug down, wiping my chin with my sleeve. “Your shop is lovely, Miss Sugar.” I said, folding my hands over my crossed legs.

  
“Yes, it’s unique.” She said and looked about. “Can I ask you something?” She asked, her mug clinking against the class, she placed it beside the coaster.

  
“Yes, anything.” I said, intrigued.

  
“Do you know?” She asked, I tilted my head. I had a feeling what she was asking about, but I couldn’t be sure. She nodded, her eyes widening. “About the magic.”

  
I sat up, my breath hitched in my throat. I brought my hand up to pinch my collar bone, as I did when I was nervous. “I, uh,” I stammered, furrowed my brows. “Why do you ask?”

  
“Because I can feel it, I can see it in your aura.” She said and sighed. “It’s magical, for lack of a better term.”

  
“Do you-“ I leaned forward. “Do you know about magic?”

  
She nodded. “Yes.” She smiled.

  
“Can you tell me?” I asked.

  
“What would you like to know?” She asked.

  
I paused and pulled a loose thread on my sweater. “I’d like to know everything.” I said.

 

 

I think about that day a lot. The day that I met Sugar. That was the first day I met anyone who knew anything about magic, that was the first day that I felt like a person and not like a freak since before. I had thought for so long that it was only me, but then I knew that it couldn’t be, because I wasn’t that special.

  
Sugar told me that I possessed the magic of the Earth and the Moon. Which made no sense to me, because that could mean that I could just turn rock into water. I know now that it means that I have the ability to manipulate and conjure elemental forces, with the rule of Earth, With the rule of the moon, my powers are connected directly to my emotions. I had a good sense of that, as something always went haywire or broke or floated when my emotions fluctuated as they did often.

  
I had learned over the years through practice and discipline to control my magic without having to become an unemotional shrewd. That would have been boring, I’d much rather have been a walking accident. Sugar gave me books, I had read them, forgot them, but no less learned from them enough to get me this far without the feds finding out. If the feds found out I’d surely be captured and skinned alive. That would certainly be a step in the wrong direction.

  
It was Sugar who made me start searching, for more answers, more people like me. I didn’t want to rid myself of my powers as Emma thought I did. I just wanted to know why I had them. I needed to know. Knowledge is power, bitches.

  
“Hey,” Emma said, sitting cross legged in front of me. I closed my journal, the only thing I didn’t and wouldn’t share with her.

  
“Hey,” I squinted my eyes to the sun, taking her sunglasses off her head in a swift move. She laughed and flicked back the stray hair that it let loose.

  
“So, I’m going to get going soon.” She said.

  
“What? Why?” I asked quickly.

  
“I have a date tonight.” She said, rubbing her shoulder.

  
I sank down and twirled my nail around in the dirt and leaves beneath me. “Oh,” Was all I said. I hated that Emma always went out and found these.. men. These walking fuck sticks. That isn’t me hating on men, that’s me hating on the men she associates with. I like guys, they’re cool to chill with, I wouldn’t fuck one, but I’d do.. you know, nonsexual things with them.

  
Anyways, she doesn’t know how to pick them. Actually, not true, she knows how to pick people as emotionally desolate as she is. So she can trick herself into thinking it’s love because they don’t know how to say things that they mean, but have no trouble saying things they think people want to hear. That’s what her goddamn problem is. Emma is crippled, on the inside.

  
I think that emotions are important, I like them. Emotions can be just as freeing as they can be isolating. I try to tell her that, but she just gets mad. Actually, not mad, she just goes somewhere else and doesn’t listen to me. I know when she isn’t listening to me because she’ll move her ears. It’s a subconscious act of annoyance.  
I know Emma, she’s a deep and disturbed individual. Not deeply disturbed, but deep as well as disturbed. I love the way her mind works, she’s intelligent and sees the bigger picture of things, but never tries. Once she gets out of her shell and allows herself to be who she is and can be, it’s such a miraculous thing, what she thinks and where she goes.

  
It’s a damn shame that she has no goddamn sense of direction in any sense that isn’t intellectual. I guess that’s how we balance each other out. I’m more interactive and outwardly in tune with myself, while she’s more introverted and out of touch with herself, but that’s because she wants to be. Emma likes to be inside herself so she can work out situations and create links between how’s and why’s of everything. She’s like a science, she doesn’t believe in blind faith or what if’s, she only sees what’s real and can be proven, what is seen.

  
That hardly matters, because no matter how hard she tries, I know that there’s a soul down there. No matter what, because I’ve seen it.

 

 

I sat alone in my truck, blasting the Beats Me album by Psyched Up Janis. It was dark beyond the glass that that my fuzzy sock enclosed feet pressed against. I could see the stars, millions of them twinkling and shooting amongst one another. I tried to count them, but I lost track of the thought after around 2,000. I started thinking about all the things I wanted to do, needed to do, then what I was actually going to do, and that stressed me out.

  
I sat up, crossed my legs and turned the car on, moving my right foot down so that I could actually drive, because for a moment I thought that physics didn’t apply to me because sometimes I could make a leaf fly with the power of my unrequited love for my best friend. Ha, if only. I turned on the lights and crawled up to the dirt road, there was a deer, I honked at it, it jumped out of it’s skin, nearly, but not quite.

  
Chuckling as I carried on up the road, changing the tunes to Wayward Son by Kansas, as I was feeling in the mood to be sad about Destiel. I sang along loudly with the window down and the chill of the late January night numbing my face. I turned back to Tanked and Gone and sang that equally as loud. I smiled once the song was over and all I wanted was a drink of water.

  
It was taking a long time to get back to the city. We had came back to Seattle, to stay at the house, the one my parents left for me. We rented it out to people in the summer, sometimes for the Christmas holiday, as we did this past year. Now, we were back and it was fine. The house felt lonely and it reminded me of them. It reminded me of the past, which should have been left as just that.

  
That’s my fault, because I’m too sensitive, I’m too sensitive, I dwell on the past because I’m still trying to figure it all out. If it really happened and what it means. I know it did and it means I should grow on this experience, but.. I just can’t.  
I could see the city lights, I inhaled it, the way it smelled, the way it felt to be home. This was home as confusing and spiraling as it was, it was home. I turned off the radio, content to listen to the harsh wind that billowed in from the outside. I let myself detach from the moment, and just breathe.

  
We lived on the outskirts of town, close to a small square of shops and other necessities. I could never remember the name of the suburb, but you get the idea. I pulled into the driveway and glanced up at the two story house. The outside was paneled wood with a gray blue paint, and stone lining the basement windows, the columns around the front and side doors, as well the first couple of feet of the garage.  
It was a beautiful house.

  
I let out a breath and shut my car off, waiting a moment before I rolled the window up and headed inside. Emma’s car was here, so that meant she must be too, or maybe her date picked her up. Either way.

  
All the lights were off downstairs when I stepped inside, it smelled the same as it always did; blueberries and downy. I ran up the stairs, because the light coming from my room was all I could see and I was just a little bit afraid of the dark. Especially after we had used that Ouija board in the attic and it had actually worked. Or at least I think it did, I mean, I didn’t move it.

  
I stepped into my room and closed the door, locked it. Ever since we really moved in, Emma took up residence in the room to the right of the landing. It used to be Zelena’s, but she lived in Europe or something now, never answered our calls. My calls, I mean.  
With a sigh, I threw my keys at my nightstand, they slid behind it. I groaned, but that wasn’t going to pick them up, neither was I. I turned over and slipped my phone out of the pockets of my shorts. I kicked off my sandals, leaving my feet clad only in stripped socks. I turned on some tunes, tunes being Domestication by Try The Pie. I sat back against the wall just as I heard the front door slam shut. The sound of something hitting a wall resounded throughout the house. Most of the interior was marble, so the echo was pretty impressive. I paused my music, turned off my light and peaked out the door. I saw Emma, pressed up against the wall by a black haired man wearing more leather than skin.

  
My lips twitched and I could feel the familiar hum of magic in my fingertips, pulsating. Emma laughed and pushed him off her, moving towards the stairs with his hand in hers. She looked to my door, I fell back against the wall, then I heard her door slam shut. There’s really no way to describe how I felt right now, I knew I was about to do something idiotic, I could stop it, I should stop it. It was out of my control now, now as I slipped past the door, walked across the carpet to her door. I opened it, the knob burned my hand.

  
I saw the familiar walls of meadow green, familiar bed, sheets, mess that had been made of the floor. Emma was there, she was familiar, but the naked man beneath her, was not. I could see where he had entered her, I could see the fur on his balls, I wanted to throw up. He opened his eyes between breathy sighs and saw me, smirked. He fucking smirked and I imagined myself choking him, as if my hand were around his throat, I could feel it as he gasped for air but was never granted it, I could feel it as the life left his body, the useless life that he was given but surely didn’t deserve.

  
I watched as he turned red, his eyes fell, the lust was gone and replaced by fear, he stopped moving beneath her and moved his hands from her waist to his throat.  
“Killian?” Emma asked, looking down. He looked to her then to me, she turned around, she flung her leg over him. “Regina, stop.” She ran towards me naked, I looked at her, then at him, then at my hand that was tensed, veins throbbing. “Regina, what are you doing stop!” She yelled. I started to tear up, I didn’t stop, I couldn’t, or maybe I didn’t want to. “Regina!” She sounded so scared, she shook me, but nothing worked, because I wanted him dead. Emma looked back to him, eyes wide, then to me, she brought up her hand and slapped me hard in the face. I went loose, he fell forward and gasped for air, I looked to her with wide eyes, trying to tell her through them that I was sorry, that she should understand. However, she wasn’t telepathic so I had to open my mouth, but what I could I say that wouldn’t be a lie?

  
“I- didn’t mean it.” I said hurriedly, my hand clutching my cheek. “Emma, I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t-“ I began, but stopped when I saw the look in her eyes. Fear, betrayal, and I shut up. “Really.” I said, I reached out and grabbed her hand, but she yanked it away.

  
“Fuck off.” She said, turned back to the room. “Just, fuck off.” She slammed the door shut. I nodded, bit back the tears that threatened at my eyes, because I cried too fucking much, and I wasn’t about to cry again. Not over this.

 

 

The next morning I woke in a heap of a headache, in a bed that wasn’t mine, or anyone that I knew. I looked to the side where there was a body of a young woman, a beautiful woman. I sat up, wearing nothing. I put two and two together, collected that I had indeed slept with this woman, and now had to find my clothing and leave before she could see me.

  
That lasted for all about three seconds, as my foot got caught up in the sheets and I fell face first onto the wooden floor. “Shit.” I whispered, my leg coming undone. I stood, I was wearing one sock, so that was one less thing I had to find.

  
I looked to the woman, who was now staring at me through big brown eyes. I smiled awkwardly, very much so. She smiled back and then fell against the pillow.  
“So, you wanna go get breakfast?” She asked, her voice muffled.

  
“Uh, I, uh, no. Aren’t you not.. supposed to ask that?” I asked.

  
She laughed, she had a beautiful laugh. I smiled, not weirdly, but really. “I guess you’re right.” She said. “But what’s the fun in doing what everyone else does?” She asked.

  
I laughed and nodded. “You have a point.” I said. “Do you mind if I just, take a shower then?” I asked, raising a brow, silently asking for her name.

  
“Ruby.” She answered. “Yeah, through there.” She pointed to a white door just behind me. “If you.. shit..” Her phone rang. “Oh, no.” She hung it up, rubbed over her forehead. “If you want to borrow some clothes, shirts are in the closet, pants top drawer and underwear bottom.” She said in a haste as she stretched.

  
“Thanks.. Ruby.” I answered and turned into the shower. I closed the door and pressed up against it. I fucked up, that much I knew. I remember.. nothing. I really remember nothing after leaving the house. Shit. Shit! No, it’s okay. I’m fine, this is fine, people do this all the time, yeah?

 

I stepped out of the bathroom to find Ruby fully dressed, the bed still unmade, but my clothes folded in a nice pile.

  
“So, I’m going to be honest.” She said, turning into the bathroom. “I sniffed up your clothes, and they stink.” She put toothpaste on her toothbrush. “No offense, but I put out an outfit for you.” She said and began to brush.

  
“I- yeah, I know. I was hiking yesterday.” I nodded, walked over to my clothes and sniffed. “No offense... taken.” I replied and picked up the outfit she’d chosen. A thin black hoodie, like made out of that meshy material, so not anything that could actually keep anyone warm, a red lacy bra, jeans that were light wash with rips, that looked about four sizes too big, but oh! A belt. I smiled at the clothes, at least she knew how to dress.

  
I slipped into my borrowed attire, the slipped into my sandals without the socks this time. Ruby emerged with a fresh face of makeup and her wavy hair pulled up into an overflowing bun. She was stunning.

  
I didn’t know how I felt about having just fucked this girl last night, but she didn’t make me feel bad, or unwanted, probably because she actually wanted to be around me.

  
“Ready?” She asked.

  
“Should I drive?” I asked, twirling my keys over my finger, until they projected out of my hands, and she laughed at me.

  
“No, actually, we were going to walk.” She said. “Unless that’s not something that you do?’ She asked sarcastically.

  
“Not usually.” I answered. “So, I just have a question-“ I began.

  
“If you’re going to ask me how you ended up in bed with me, I don’t know.” She replied.

  
“What?” I tilted my head as we stepped into the elevator, she punched the L. “What do you mean you don’t remember?”

  
She shrugged, slapped her thighs and danced her red nails over her bare legs. “Yeah, if I did, do you really think we’d be going to breakfast?”

  
“I don’t understand.”

  
“Look, I don’t remember anything from last night, I don’t remember meeting you, or going anywhere.” She shook her head as the doors opened, we stepped out. “Last thing I did was clock out- then I wake up in bed with you.”

  
“I’m sorry.” I said, because I couldn’t think of anything else.

  
“It’s fine,” She elbowed me, smiled wide. “You don’t seem like bad news.” She told.  
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” I asked hesitantly.

  
“Something like that.” She gave, chuckled as we stepped out into the morning air with a hint of a chill and more than a hint of overcast. “What about you?”

  
“Me?” I asked. “Wait, duh.” I laughed. “Well, I was leaving my house, my friend and I just gotten into it, but it was pretty one sided.” My cheek stung where Emma had struck me. Bile rose in my throat as I recalled what I had done, what I had almost done.

  
“You okay?” She asked, hands shoved into her pockets.

  
I nodded, looked over across the street to a man, unsuspecting. “Yeah, I just did something I shouldn’t have because, because,” I looked up into the swirling clouds, trying to come up with a truthful answer to that. “I guess because I thought I was in love with her, thought she was, too, maybe.” I chuckled. “But, I’m a fucking idiot.”

  
“Nah,” She assured. “That’s what love does, even when it’s one sided.”

  
“Guess you’re right.”

  
“Of course.” She replied. “So what happened?” I turned away. “Come on, it’s easier to tell someone who’s opinion you don’t give a shit about,”

  
“Maybe I do care about your opinion?” I replied as we crossed the street.

  
“Why would you?” She asked.

  
“You don’t seem like bad news.” I repeated her earlier statement, she just smiled down at me.

  
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” She then mocked me. I laughed as we stopped she opened up the door to an old diner that was all red and white and windows.

40 years later

That’s how I met Ruby, Ruby who I didn’t know when I woke up in her bed, wore her clothes and never gave them back, or went to breakfast with, but who I know now, and who changed my life in more ways than I can tell her. Who saved me from myself, helped me run away from something.. well I guess I can tell the truth now. She helped me run away from Emma, and I needed that, I needed that more than I knew I did at the time.

  
I was so busy grasping at straws, straws that were etched with hope that we could have been together right when I wanted it, that I failed to see that she wasn’t in a place where she could be good for me. I wasn’t in a place that I could deal with someone like that in the way that I thought I could. It’s really for the best, that I met Ruby, that I got to see the good side of things that I had chose to blind myself to.  
I always thought that Emma would be my first love, my first real love. She wasn’t, she wasn’t and I couldn’t be happier. Here I am, years and years later, remembering this, all of this. My life, how it was and how I thought it would be. Now, I see how it is, and I laugh because it’s not in any way what I pictured it.  
Now, it’s my time to reflect and look back on it all. I’m happy, I’m proud. Most of all, I’m in control, now for the first time it feels like. How can I repay anyone for that? All the love in my heart I’ve already expelled into them, I’m happy, I’m proud, in control, but I’m empty.  
I see now that that’s my fault.


	5. Chapter Five

5 Years After  
Emma POV

 

Ever since she found herself, I never feared her. I never feared that she would hurt me or anyone else, because that’s just not who she is. Not who I thought she is, or maybe that’s not who she is anymore. What’s changed?

  
I saw a different person tonight, someone I didn’t know, someone who wasn’t my best friend, the girl who couldn’t sing and apologized to leaves when she crunched them in the fall. The person I saw tonight was someone evil and capable of such. I have seen all kinds of feelings within her eyes, hate, glee, lust, sorrow, but this was was new, it was lust, but different from the romantic or sexual manner of it. It was bloodlust.  
She wasn’t her, she was a vampire who caught the scent of human blood for the first time, she was inhuman. I knew that her powers were a gift, one that could be beautiful if she used them as such, but they were also a curse, that had been key component in the crime she almost committed tonight. The worst kind of all for someone like her, someone who saw beauty in everything even when it was hardly there. If it wasn’t there, she would create it.

  
Who was she? No, I know who she was, of course I did. The real question was where was she? Buried underneath that envy, that putrid hate? Or was she just snuffed out by the evil? I don’t see her as weak, but if the lust for the blood of another was strong enough, it could overpower anyone’s sense of direction, it could change them before they could question it. Or fight it.

  
I want to believe that it couldn’t be true, impossible. I can’t, because she’s not immune, and she has so much power, no one could compete with that. Maybe she woke up and saw that if she wanted she could manipulate her way into the world. Anything she wanted, desired, it was hers if she only would will it.

  
It would be so easy for her to take and take and never have to give. No one could blame her, I couldn’t. I would, because I felt, no, I knew she was better than that. I shouldn’t, let’s say, because when something is up for the taking, when it’s easy, and looks to be inconsequential then hell yeah, taking is what anyone would do. Get while the getting is good.

  
Greed, it’s all greed. More and more, because it’s easy, because you can. If one can, then one must. That’s the way that the world seems to be working, that’s the way we are told to be. Though we try to portray there being a unit of us all for the greater good, when it really comes down to it, it’s every man for himself, because one is easy.  
Greed, because if you could have it then you should.

  
I think that’s why the world is in such a downward spiral, because of greed, and how want is always confused with need, hungry with starving, cold with freezing. No one is immune to greed, no one is untouched by it’s wicked divinities. Not me, not her.

  
Her.

  
Her. I can’t say her name, but it plays on a loop in the back of my mind. I can’t say her name because then I give in to her. I don’t want to forgive her, but I can’t help but feel that I am not completely void of fault. I know that we have a difficult relationship, she and I. It’s not perfect but we do need each other, we do help each other, but we function. I couldn’t imagine my life is she was no longer in it.

  
Maybe she feels the same, I think she does. I wish I could say for sure, but she’s on a constant roller coaster of confusion. Never knows what she wants or when, she hardly even knows what she needs. I make it sound as if she’s a helpless young child who needs guidance in every sense of the word, in every sense of herself. That isn’t true, she doesn’t need guidance, but she craves it, as she is lost, she knows that, she does but how can she be so vulnerable to admit. I don’t expect that from her, I don’t even want that from her.

  
I just want to be the same person, if not the same person then a better one. Not a better one because there is no such person, but one that grows instead of shrinks. Always stepping forward, never back, no matter how small the step of far the leap. Forward, always. That’s who I thought she was. Now, I see that this was just another one of those things that I was wrong about. This is the worst thing I could have been wrong about.

  
After, I climbed back into bed with that man, let him fuck me. I let him fuck me hard because I wanted him to, I could smell his fear more than the sweat of his back. Fear, was something I craved, it brought me pleasure. So, he fucked me, then he left. I was alone for the first time in longer than I could remember.

  
I lay in that room, my room and stared up into the ceiling, each time a car would pass heading south, it would light up the room. I waited for each one, as if the next were better than the last. It was game with no winners, one would always come before, once one came before, then another would pass it. A game that I liked to play because there was so much competition for a title that could never be won. Maybe because it didn’t exist.

  
I fell asleep, she was the last thought that plagued my muddy mind, her, her eyes, her apology, her evil. Her. What was happening to me?

 

 

In the morning I pulled myself out of bed, still naked, I pulled into a large flannel shirt. I buttoned it up, only two, as I planned on taking a shower to cleanse myself of the filth that would continue to make my skin itch and crawl. I stopped a moment outside her door, I almost knocked, but it was open, so I pushed inside, she was gone.  
I looked down and around her mess of a room. We never cleaned anymore, we didn’t want to, we really didn’t have to, because it was our her, well, her house. Her house and she could care less if anyone knew what color the carpet was. I couldn’t either, it was beige plush, I knew that, so did she, so if we ever found it then at least we wouldn’t be surprised.

  
I closed the door softly and headed in to the bathroom, stripped myself free of clothes and stepped under the warm spray, running my hands over my body until it was smooth and the skin didn’t stick or slide rough over any places. I felt dirty where I shouldn’t, I wasn’t sore but I hurt, burned where I shouldn’t. I just sniveled, rubbed my nose before grabbing two cloths from the rack. One for my disgusting body, the other for my disgusting face.

 

I felt clean after the shower, clean as I could feel when the grossest part of me was untouchable. I dressed myself in cotton shorts, oversized hoodie from this soccer camp I had gone to a few years back when I thought I wanted to play soccer.  
I fucking hate soccer.

  
I like sports, but more track, cross country, swim, maybe softball, and archery, but soccer can stick it. Fuck soccer. I’m bitter as fuck about soccer and I don’t want to ever go back to that time in my life when I had been at my worst.

  
I was twelve, and I had hit rock bottom. The bikini would have been preferable.  
Now I’m mad about it, so here goes.

7 years earlier

 

Today I’m doing something new. I’m super stoked because I’ve never played soccer, which is surprising considering I’d at least tried just about everything else.  
Anyways, I’m going alone, I’m on the bus right now, this smelly boy is next to me. I want to tell him her smells like a toenail, but that’s inappropriate, so I have to be more subtle. I pull out perfume from my bag, because if I got sweaty but didn’t have time to fully shower. I could do what Mr. Mills did, he called it a man shower. I hope that’s just a title, and men actually shower, because if not then I might not ever marry one.  
Perfume. I pull it out and spray under my shirt, the over it, the all over him. He glares at me and grabs the bottle, throws is across the bus.

  
“Excuse you!” I huffed and balled my fist.

  
“You made me smell like girl!”

  
“What’s wrong with that?” I asked, tried to make myself tall. I’m not, I’m like 4’11. I’ll grow, though.

  
“I’m a boy, idiot!”

  
“Oh, right.” I nodded. “It’s my bad, I just mistook you for a foot.”

  
“I don’t look like a foot.”

  
“You’re right, but I’m genderblind, I go off of smell alone.” I nodded. “Thought it would be better if I were under the impression I were sitting next to a girl and not a FOOT.”

  
He was about to answer when the bus pulled to a stop, I heaved up my duffle and stood before everyone else. I turned and looked down at him. “At least as a foot, I can assume you play better than you smell.” I smiled wide, he scowled.

 

Training was annoying, all these kids are annoying. No wonder I only have three friends. Do I even have three friends? I don’t even think so, but it’s no damn mystery! So, we were doing sprints, and I was cool with it, but then Foot Boy ran up next to me and tripped me, but I hooked his sausage leg and he tripped, but he ended up falling flat on his face and scraped his nose. I laughed. It was humorous.

  
Then our consoler came up and I was the one who got in trouble!

  
“But, he tripped me first!” I accused, pointing down at him, still on the ground as if he’d broken something other than his ego.

  
“All I saw was you trip him, Swan.” The girl said, she didn’t have a name tag or anything, but I could sense her name was Hannah or Claire. Something like that.

  
“Whatever.” I said and turned around, kept running.

  
“Hold it!” There girl yelled. “You have to apologize.”

  
“Look, I’m not going to argue with you, but he tripped me, he doesn’t get an apology.” I ran off, not listening when she called me again. She must have given up, because we completed sprints and after stretching, began a scrimmage game.

  
I had a basic concept of how to play soccer, and I didn’t want to be placed in the beginner camp, so I signed up for intermediate level. Most of these kids were around fourteen or fifteen, and I was the youngest and puniest there.

  
Not that that mattered to me, because I liked to think that I had the potential to be good at everything, it has been true so far.

  
Scrimmages; so I was red team, and I thought it was unfair at first because it was all girls then boys on the other blue team. I mean, not that girls couldn’t do it, but these were teenage boys going through puberty! If you don’t get then use you imagination.  
We began and after kickoff, we were kicking their ass! I guess because none of the boys wanted to get rough with us. The girls took advantage of that and rammed the fuck out of them. I was offense, but they asked me to hang back in case the ball came back, because the defensive girls’ were all just standing and twirling their hair because no one thought the boys would be allowed the upper hand.

  
That was funny, because boy, were they wrong. It was all sausage boy, he kicked the ball right out from underneath that girl Amanda, and came running my way. I ran towards him because no way in hell was he about to get a goal if I could help it.

  
That was a mistake.

  
Next thing I know I’m being carried into the infirmary with a broken shin, he kicked it into two pieces.

  
Now, I hate soccer. I blame soccer and all of it’s players for the problems in the world.

 

7 Years Later

 

I haven’t played the game in years, not even for fun. The only thing I gained from that camp was the allowance to say I’d broken my leg once, and this hoodie even now hardly fits me.

  
I went down stairs, swimming in the thing and sat down on the couch. In the kitchen there was a mess of a mess. Dishes, leftovers, just piling up and making counter space scarce. If they were bills, our house would no loner be ours. However, we paid out bills, therefore had the right to make a fuck stye out the house if we pleased.  
It was a conscious effort, to make a mess, it was just something that happened. We liked to eat, buy food and things. We didn’t like to clean, hire maids, or throw away bottles that could be recycled. They would be, if we ever got the time to go to the plant.

  
We didn’t own a recycling bin.

  
It’s safe to say we are the epitome of adults who should not be living on their own. We’re hardly adults, though. I just turned 18, she would be next month. Adults was a term, a label, and something that we didn’t or hadn’t yet lived up to. However, if being an adult means worrying more about a clean house and having a dish made of ceramic and a glass made of just that, then it sounded like a bore anyway. There have been times that we drank from the hose, ate off of a frisbee.

  
I guess we weren’t ready to give up the childhood that we had. We weren’t ready to move up from being immature because it seemed as if time moved so slow when we wanted to get where we are now that we forgot to enjoy being young. Now, we want it back.

  
I think everyone faces some kind of realization like that, but aren’t as lucky as us. Other people have to grow up, have to mature because they have to be self sufficient. We don’t have to be self sufficient, we are, but we don’t need jobs or mortgages. We have money, a house, car insurance because it was given to us. We’re lucky, but that luck has made it so we don’t have to grow up. I think if we did, grow up that is, then nothing would be the same, I like things the way they are but I can’t see this being how it always will. Eventually, we have to stop, settle down, maybe get a job, start a business, move apart and start families.

  
That’s a scary thought, because what if we never get to do any of those things? Not so much we, but me. What if I never get to stop, what if I never start a family, because I can’t even tell my best friend that I love her. I can’t imagine having to raise a child by myself or with anyone else, knowing those I chose to associate with that kid would turn out worse than me. I can’t be held responsible for another life when I can’t even be trusted not to make a mess of my own.

 

It’s nearly midnight, she’s still not back. I tried to call her, her phone is off, I tried to call someone she might be with, but I don’t know any of her friends. Maybe because I was the only one she ever spent time with.

  
Wow, It’s been over ten years, we were still together. Minimal fights, and it’s crazy because we have been living in with one another for five of those years. Five years it’s been since I’ve seen my parents. I thought this was normal, but it’s not. I see it’s not, I can’t believe they just left me with my friend’s family, never called me first except to fill me in on their location. I wished they wouldn’t call at all. It would be less of a burden if I were under the impression they’d follow off a cliff or got mauled by a Russian bear.

  
Now, I was all alone, like I deserve, I see that now. I just hope that wherever she is she’s having fun, doing better than me.

  
She, her, we. I guess I should say her name again.

  
Regina.


	6. Chapter 6

10 Years After

I told her that I needed to sit by the window.  
I liked the view, the land below, the occasional city we’d pass over, sometimes the pilot would mention the name. Sometimes not, sometimes I even knew it myself.   
We’d passed over Lincoln, Nebraska. I recognized that one, only because of the land and using my analytical skills of ‘this was one of the cities he mentioned.’ I appreciate Nebraska, corn and all. That was biased of me. I’m tired, this is not a fun time.

  
We’re on a non-stop flight to Portland, Maine, it’s grueling and amazing that it’s taking so long. Emma had been trying to fall asleep for hours, using the neck pillow that I bought her. It was bright green with a frog face. She twitched and squirmed underneath it, letting out a sigh and going limp only a few hours into the ride. I looked over at her, she looked irritated, I leaned m head on the seat, covered in blue velveteen.

  
“You okay?” I asked, my voice low and gruff from hours of not using it. The last time being when I asked the attendant for a can of ginger ale.

  
She didn’t look over at me, just peeked down the row. “Fine.” She said, her answer short and annoyed, which pissed me off. I groaned internally and tried to move as far away from her as possible. I saw from the corner of my eye her peer over at me, look me up and down, then veer forward. I stared down to the ground, grass, the sky growing darker, soon it’d be as if the ground didn’t exist. Of course, it did. I try not to believe in what I can’t see.

  
You know what creates an awkward silence? Words. Words that are stuck in your throat, in your head, that you can’t say or are too afraid to say.

  
I’ve found that not thinking about words is a pretty good way to avoid awkward silence. Emma hasn’t learned that yet, I don’t think she deserves to know the secret. I could feel the tension growing between us, making the space between us shrink.

  
“Say it.” I sighed. She cracked her neck, I looked over at her, staring down at her hand, peeling off her purple polish. “Emma.” I deadpanned.

  
The tension remained, she never said a word. That’s how we stayed, for the whole flight.

The plane landed, Emma stood before anyone else. I rolled my eyes, who was she? Like, hey who are you? I don’t know when she got the idea in her mind that being a snark was going to impact me or dampen me in an way. Honestly, she could take her ass back home, let me do this myself. I could care less.

  
I know she needs me, though, that’s why she doesn’t leave.   
That’s the problem. I don’t know if she loves me, or just needs me. I can’t tell, and her words are empty. I just want her to love me, the way I love her. I do everything in my power to show her that she is loved, loved too much. It doesn’t mean anything to her.   
Walking up the incline of that plane tube, I watched as her soapy hair cascaded down her back, swinging left and right with her. I loved her. Dammit.

  
“Emma,” I called, she was about two yards ahead of me. “Stop!” I yelled when she didn’t slow up. When I did, she stopped in her tracks and turned to face me, her face unamused and slightly bitter. Somewhat the resemblance of a crab apple.

  
I caught up to her and grabbed her hand, she relaxed into my touch and I smiled up at her wide like a child who was allowed to eat candy before dinner. “I win.” I said, she glared down at me once before looking away, her face breaking into a grin as she did, I bounced up in my step and pressed into her.

  
The airport was crowded, but we found our way to the baggage claim in no time. Maybe we were too used to airports.

  
“Fucking hungry.” She uttered her first words since we arrived, arms crossed. I looked up from the track and back down, tapping my foot impatiently. “Regina.” She whined.

  
“I heard you-“ I answered slowly, eyes widening in annoyance. “what?” I asked when she just looked my way with this dumb ass expression. “You want to just leave me to get the bags?” I asked. I swear, I almost slapped her when she nodded, luckily I am not a violent person. “Fine, go, I’m not getting your bag for you.” I replied.

  
I internally smirked when she walked a couple of feet away and groaned. My bag was up first, I snatched up the blue and purple case, extended the handle and walked over to her, where she was stewing in her pent up rage.

  
I rest my chin on her shoulder as I saw her black duffle roll around, she ducked out of my reach and picked it up. “I’m sick of fucking airports.”

  
“Are you done, oh my god?” I asked, a little louder than I would have liked, but she was really getting on my nerves.

  
“Excuse me?” She asked, turned around. I walked around her, I’ll be damned if we we’re going to put on a show for these people. Not to mention I could feel my hand burning, that was never a good sign. “Hey!” She called.

  
“Emma,” I whipped around, whisper yelling. “this can wait.”

  
She laughed without humor. “What, don’t want to make a scene?” She asked, I watched her drop her bag and throw her hands up. “Are you embarrassed of me, Regina?” She yelled, hands in the air.   
I could feel my face as it turned beet red, I growled and turned around, walking fast.   
“That’s my girlfriend, Regina Mills, and she’s having a tantrum!” She called. I turned around quickly to see her smiling, I could literally kill her. I bit my lip, dug my nails into my palm and walked slowly away, slowly. “Aw, baby!” She said, picked up her bag and ran after me.

  
I felt her hand around my arm, which I yanked away. “Don’t fucking touch me!” I gritted out. I hate her, I hate her, I hate her.

  
I tried to out-walk her to the cab area, but her legs were longer than mine. Also, she had latched on to my hood. I was chewing a hole in my lip trying not to kill her. Once outside, we stood for a good ten minutes waiting for a taxi, as there was a massive line before us.

  
Once inside, I sat behind the driver, but she sat in the middle. “Will you please take us to IHop?” She asked the driver.

  
“No problem, hon.” He said and sped off.

  
I sighed, glaring out the window. “Tomorrow we have to go to the rental place, pick up the car.” I told.

  
“Why didn’t we just do it here?” She asked.

  
“They close after 8.” I replied.

  
“Okay.” She nodded. “So, we stay here tonight?” She asked.

  
“No, we’re staying in a hotel.” I answered.

  
“Funny.” She stated. “Let’s stay at Motel 6.”

  
I scrunched my face and turned to her, she was grinning all gummy. “Why?”

  
I saw her inhale then shake her head. “I really want to stay at Motel 6.” She shrugged.

  
I smiled against my better judgement. “Okay.” I nodded, let out a breath of a laugh. Motel 6. I watched as the clouds twisted angrily overhead, dark gray, light gray, not a star in sight.

  
Soon, we were pulling off the road and into the lot of an IHop. “Thanks, man.” Emma said and hopped out.

  
I pulled out my wallet and slid my card through the slot. “Have a nice night, sir.” I said, he nodded, and I slipped out. Emma had out bags in hand, walking towards the lit entrance if the building. I walked slowly behind her, by the time I caught up she was bouncing at the door.

  
“Hurry.” She whined. “Hungry.” I slipped past her and into the foyer. The man at the front desk grinned and pulled out a pair of menus from under the desk.

  
“Two?” He asked.

  
“Yep.” I said breathlessly.

  
“Right this way.” He said and moved towards the back, the place wasn’t too crowded, maybe six tables were occupied. Thank god for that, I would have left had it been packed, or packed enough to be loud.

  
He led us to a table in the back room, it was completely empty. I took a seat on the booth side of he deal, Emma across from me. “Drinks?” He asked.

  
“Uh, strawberry lemonade and water.” I said with a sigh, flicking my bangs out of my face. He nodded and looked to Emma.

  
“Yeah, sprite and coffee.” She said.

  
I made a face at her choice, so did the kid, but he jotted it down and walked away. Emma immediately opened up her menu and began to run through the options. I buried my head in my hands. The worst part of this day, was falling asleep in IHop before I got to order pancakes.

 

When I woke up, it was in a car, a cab to be specific. I jumped, turned to see Emma beside me, looking down at me. I squinted and looked around, then I unbuckled myself and moved into her lap, she was warm and smelled familiar. Smelled like home. Also, pancakes.

  
“Did you order some to go?” I asked. I felt her hand run through my hair, I closed my eyes, nuzzled into her thigh.   
“No.” I heard her say.

  
“Aw.” I sighed.

  
“I”m kidding.” She answered.

  
“I figured.” I replied. “Are we going to Motel 6?” I asked, voice muffled.

  
“Yes.” She replied.

  
“‘Kay.” I said and let myself drift again. I was in that stage of almost sleep where it’s like, stars. Also your body starts to numb.

  
“Baby.” I was shook. “Regina.” I was shook again. I opened my eyes and sat up quickly, looked out the window to see the classic sign; Motel 6. I rolled my eyes and hopped out the door, the night was cold and I could smell the salty spray of ocean water. I pinched my nose, the smell was overwhelming.

  
“I’ll go check in, okay?” I asked, wiping my nose, then rubbing my eyes.

  
“Yeah, okay.” Emma nodded, opening the trunk.

  
I walked towards the brightly lit office, drowning in my gray hoodie as I wrapped my arms around my waist. I walked past the pool, glowing blue with leaves decorating the top, fenced in with those broken looking chairs. The wind was picking up, hitting me in the face, pulling my hair, and it made me walk faster.

  
I yanked open the door, not intentionally violent but that was mainly the fault of the wind. I gave the old man at the desk a disheveled smile.

  
“Chilly, eh?” He asked, not looking up.

  
“Yeah, a bit.” I said in a breath, loosening in the warm lobby. To the right were two vending machines, one containing off brand snacks, the other just had a picture of Sprite. I walked over closer to the desk. “Uh, I need a room.” I said, leaning on the counter.

  
“Well, that’s our specialty.” He said sardonically.

  
“Okay, yeah.” I looked to the door where Emma was struggling to come in.

  
“Fucking bitch!” She said, her hair in her face, arms tangled in her duffle, trying in vain to hold on to my case. The man glared with a raised brow.

  
“Two full beds?” He asked.

  
I shook my head. “Just one.” He looked disapproving between the two of us, then typed something in, reached down into a drawer and handed me a key.

  
“Room 104.” He stated. “Just there.” He nodded to the right, his right, my left.

  
“Thanks.” I snatched it up, the made my way out the door, Emma who had been staring at the vendors followed closely. I held open the door for her, staring out upon the highway, cars whooshed past, trucks too. I could smell gasoline, but still the salt of the water. “Room 104.” I told her, moving to now my right.

  
Opening the door, the smell of detergent and mildew smacked me in the face. A bed in the center, coated with an orange cardboard sheet. A television, flat screen with cable stickers on the edges. A microwave, fridge, mirrors, hideous paintings. It was lovely.

  
“Fucking Motel 6, Em.” I stated unceremoniously, taking my luggage from her finally and pulling it over to the bed where I collapsed in a heavy pile. She set her bag on the bed and began to rifle through it, pulling out a t-shirt that looked like it should be worn by an ape and not a person, and a pair of cotton panties. I watched her walk towards the connected bathroom, pushing the door open and closing it. I waited a moment before sitting up quickly with a grunt, too quickly.

  
I dug through my bad before I gripped the small paper box. I felt my body relax just having it in my grasp, and I pulled it out as I got to my feet, shoving them into a pair of slippers. I opened the lid, the nicotine trailed up into my nose, i inhaled it’s path. Pulling out the purple Bic and a single roll, I opened the door.

  
The box was shoved back into the pocket of my jacket, I turned towards the wall and tried the lighter. Once, Twice. Sucking in, feeling the smoke overtake my lungs I raised my head once more, walked towards the pool. My hands were ejected from my pocket as I unlatched the gate, walked slowly over to the chair in the farthest corner, not visible to the lobby.   
I puffed my smoke, my gaze set on the pool. I thought about the day, how I needed an escape. Up and down, side to side, that’s how it was with us. Even before we were together. It’s worse now that it runs deeper than just friendship. I felt mixed emotions, all the time towards her. I wanted to strangle her, lick her teeth all in one breath. I sighed, felt the familiar bubble in my chest, the glitter dancing over the tips of my fingers as I focused on the pool.

  
The center bubbled, a leaf floating quickly away. Just where the bubble popped, it began to swirl, small, getting bigger. The whirlpool I created collapsed into itself as smoke burned the hair of my nose. Deeper and deeper, picking up leaves and having the hang on it’s walls. I wanted more, so I expelled more. Streams of water grew out of the edges, tiny, barely alive, they connected to one another in the center, then the spun up, towards the clouds.

  
I just stared. I felt the magic flowing out of me, into the water, but it never drained, or felt less than, it just escaped, upon that escape it would grow and strengthen. I peered over to the windows, dark, the curtains drawn. I looked to room 104, the same. I closed my eyes and brought my hand up to the shaft between my teeth, the whirlpool just dropped with a splash, the water rippled a moment, stilling. Only for a moment was it still before a gust of wind gave it a shiver.

  
I leaned back into the plastic of the chair, it groaned and creaked beneath me. I closed my eyes, threw the bud, and drew in the fresh air. I tasted the salt, the gasoline, the chill. I stayed that way for a long time, not wanting to move or think about anything, it was nice, to just empty it all aside for a moment. It took me back, to the water, when I first went with Ruby.

 

5 Years After.

 

It was all a blur, the past week. Pearly white smiles, dark trees, shot stars, late nights. We’d drove away from home, to the coast, with a few stops along the way. It wasn’t a far drive, but we took the scenic route. Spent our nights in the woods, our days on the road.   
Now, we were face first into icy water. I screamed a little when it first touched me, then she came running up behind me and pulled me under with her, the frozen waves stole my breath. I came up, the air feeling warmer than the sea. I couldn’t touch the bottom, I felt warmth in the form of her, dug my nails into the soft skin of her arms and pulled her into me. I pillowed into her chest, wrapped myself around her, breathing hard into her wet skin.

  
I smelled her, but nothing came to mind. I tasted her, salt. I pulled back and stared into her eyes, they were dark, almost black, but they sparkled with bits of joy, lust, excitement in every form. Her jaw shook, chittering from the frozen wasteland that felt empty, I turned to see black ripples, mountain tops that rose and fell. As if time were being manipulated. Then, over to the rocky cliffs, black sand of the shore.

  
I felt a hand on my cheek, pull me over. I was ghosting over her lips, her breath on my teeth, cold but hot. Ironic. It felt like ages before her lips were moving against mine, soft. I ran my tongue of the top row of teeth, she gasped as I raked my nails over her back.   
I chuckled low in my throat as I bit and sucked and pulled on her lips, teeth, tongue. I felt her hand move from my back, down. My body was numb, her hand was losing it’s warmth. I felt it on my thigh, my navel, before slipping under the bright blue of my suit. I pulled back from her, her eyes averted from mine a moment, then back up. Her pupils dilated, eyes determined as they fluttered closed, I captured her lips once more.

  
I felt her nail, clip and pinch against my entrance, I twitched against the pain. Then she slipped inside of me, one then two digits. I let loose over them, letting her hand between my legs be my anchor. I threw my head back as she curled and pulled, tickled the embankment.   
Gasping and groaning, I tipped forward and took her breast in the palm of my hand, I her tit was like a small diamond against the soft skin of my palm. I squeezed and rubbed as she moved in and out of me. I could feel myself building, as I began to moan into her mouth, I felt her smile into me.

  
Almost on cue as I came with a strangled cry, a horn honked from the shore, I jumped off her hand as she hit me in the face with her own to look over.

  
“Fuck.” She said upon seeing the patrol car.

  
“Swimming is restricted in these waters, ladies.” Came the megaphoned voice of a gruff man. “Come on out.” He said. We were about twenty feet from the shore, Ruby, about eight inches taller than my 5’3 could still touch the sandy bottom, she carried me for ten feet until we were on the shore, shivering without a towel.

  
“We didn’t know that-“ I began.

  
He held up his hand. “Can’t you read?” He asked.

  
I opened my mouth, furrowed my brows, then he thumbed backwards to a sign up on the cliff. “Area restricted September- April.” He stated clearly.

  
“Oh, well-“ I began.

  
“Get out of here.” He said, I could feel Ruby about to go off on the guy, I gripped her hand and pulled her up the rocky stairwell we had not long ago descended.

  
“What an asshole.” She said, ringing out her hair beside the passengers side of her truck.   
“Just doing his job, I guess.” I replied, pulling out a blanket, laying it across the seats. I watched as she wiggled into a hoodie, taking off her bottoms before untying her top.   
“Well, he didn’t have to be a dick about it.” She huffed.

  
“We had fun.” I answered, licking over my lips, they still tasted like salt. Ruby grinned up and me, pulling her hair into a tight braid that dripped and stuck at the bottom.

  
“Yeah, we did.” She smiled, pearly and wide, reminding me of every moment we’d spent together, every one I cherished. “I guess it’s for the best, your lips were turning blue.”

  
I reached up and ran my finger over them. “Really?” I asked, eyes wide.

  
“Yeah,” She chuckled. “No worries, you’re looking pink as ever now.” She said, hopping into the cab. “You drive.” She called through the glass, propping her feet up on the dash. I just grinned and swung open the door, jumping in beside her as she started the car for me.

  
“Where to?” I asked.

  
“You still need to ask that question?” She asked and laughed. “Anywhere!” She screamed out the window and I backed out in a haste, gravel went flying up, a pebble landed on my thigh. Ruby waved her hand out the window as her hair began to dry and stray on the edges.   
My window was closed, my hair hung damp over my shoulders, down to the top of my rib cage. I had been meaning to get it cut, I hadn’t had short hair since I was young, maybe it was time for a change.

  
“What do you think about me cutting my hair?” I asked, loudly against the wind.

  
Ruby glanced over, down as if to feel it out. “How much?” She asked.

  
I brought my hand up to my collar bone and jabbed at it. “Here.” I said, peeked over at her, then back to the road as it unfolded before me, black, yellow, white, green.

  
“Can I cut it for you?” She asked.

  
I nodded slowly. “Yeah.” I said quietly and focused solely on the road as she hummed to the tune of some 80’s rock song.

 

  
We arrived in a small town called Coos Bay, which was apparently the largest coastal town in Oregon, though Ruby was a little pissed that we were even in Oregon to begin with.

  
“I hate Oregon.” She stated as we crossed the town line.

  
I laughed. “Hey, I used to live in Portland, it was nice.” She just crossed her arms. “Why do you hate Oregon?” I asked.

  
“Boring.” She stated.

  
“Great reasoning.”

  
She scoffed. “Boring-er than anywhere else.” She went on. “And I’ve been a lot of places.”   
“Mhm.” I hummed.

  
“It is!” Then we argued a bit, myself on the pro-Oregon side, she on the con. We pulled up along the bay to a diner that hung over the edge, connected to a hotel. We skipped out, slamming the door and rushing into the log building. We were seated by a plump lady, probably in her forties, with dark hair and eyes.

  
We sat in a booth with green leather seats, a wooden lacquer table. I stared over at her, stars in my eyes, as she said.

  
“What?” She asked, not looking up.

  
“Nothing.” I popped my lips and opened the menu. Pancakes, they had lots.

  
1o Years After

  
When I finally stepped back in the room, Emma was already asleep, lights off except for the one in the bathroom. I saw my way to the fridge, glancing over at her sleeping from, she snored softly. I opened the fridge, the light poured from it and illuminated the wall. I grabbed the box from inside and took it with me to the seat by the window.   
That was where I very much enjoyed a stack of pancakes.

I awoke in the chair when the sun was just beginning to rise. I peeked over through heavy eyes to the lump of Emma still asleep on the bed as I stretched out. I pulled back the curtain to see the soppy sidewalk. Letting the curtain fall back to rest, I moved to the bed and lazily fell over Emma. I turned my head to look into her eyes as they shot open, glared at me, then shut just as quickly.

  
“Morning.” I muttered. I watched her nose pinch and hide under her.

  
“You need to brush your teeth.” Came a muffled insult.

  
“Mm.” I hummed, putting my entire weight on her as I lifted myself out of the bed, off her. “Get up, we need to get out of here.”

  
Emma flopped onto her back, grabbing her phone of the counter, clicking in the code. 7043. “Checkout isn’t till 11.” She stated.

  
“Yeah, but I want to be there before sunset.” I stripped off my shirt, tossed it on my case. All I heard was a throaty groan and ruffling of sheets before I was overtaken by the rush of hot water.

We’d rented a white Toyota Camry, it smelled brand new, but that was just the little tree of a freshener. I made Emma drive, she always liked the rental cars. We were heading out of Portland when it started to rain again.

  
The wipers trailed back and forth, leaving that small fin of drops dead center. I would watch it, just in case some how some way, it was caught and wiped away.

  
“When we get home, we should think about a new car.” Emma began, eyes on the road.

  
I sat up from my slouch. “What, why?” I asked, a bit more fretful than intended.

  
“I mean, you’ve had that truck for what, 7 years? And it was ancient then.” She said.

  
“Still runs.” I muttered. “What do you mean? If I’m correct, your car is the one with a drag bumper.”

  
“Baby is a classic!” She laughed. “All you have is spare parts.”

  
I scoffed, blubbered. “Excuse me?”

  
“You heard me.” She said. “Spare. Parts.”

  
“You know, I’m not having this argument, you want a new car, get it, but count me out.” I said, she rolled her eyes. “Butt head.” I uttered and turned on the stereo to some pop station.

  
Emma squeezed my knee and I kicked out reflexively, stubbing my toe on the dash.

  
“Stop!” I whined, curling it into my palm.

  
She just laughed ad kept her eyes on the road ahead.

It was around 3 when we turned onto the road that would lead us where we were headed. It was long, untravelled by. Take the road less travelled by, as Robert Frost instructs.

  
First, the trees closed in on us, then there was the sigh. Stone columns and block letters; Welcome to Storybrooke.

  
I took a deep breath, right when we passed over the town line, I could feel it, the magic. This time would be different.


End file.
